Fear and Frustration
by Disney-fied
Summary: Warning: spoilers for Cress! Captain Carswell Thorne has a few problems. Namely, he is stuck in a desert with a maybe-crazy Lunar girl, their water is running out and, most horribly, the fact that he is blind. This is the book of Cress told through Thorne's point of view. Cress/Thorne. Chapter 9 up!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note:**

**Hello! This is my first time ever posting stories on this website... so don't judge me if I severely mess up the formatting or whatever. :)**

**This has**_** lots of spoilers **_**if you haven't read the first three books!**

**By the way, this story has exact dialogue from the books, which **_**I do not own.**_

**This story sprung from the plot bunnies I got when reading Cress, and they haven't gone away. This is basically all the chapters with Thorne in them, just from his point of view. Early on, it will mainly focus on Thorne and Cress but as I add chapters, other characters will make appearances. It will follow the plot of the book (with a few added scenes here and there).**

**I think that's it. Again, this is my first time ever posting here, so forgive me if I mess up!**

**Anyways, let's begin. Enjoy! :)**

It was like he was awakening from a deep, deep sleep, one filled with darkness and pain and strange sensations. He struggled to pull himself out and to wake up but his thoughts were muddled, his head heavy.

Thorne twitched.

A loud gasp made his heart race. "Mr. Thorne?" said a voice – feminine. "Wake up. We're all right. Please wake up."

He moaned as memories began flooding back. The thaumaturge. The girl. The satellite. Falling. He tried to sit up but found himself still restrained by the blankets, plus it hurt his head to move.

"C-Carswell?"

That must have been the girl from before, the hacker with all the hair. He wondered if that was real or if he had just imagined it. He _did_ hit his head pretty hard. Crescent? Was that what the thaumaturge said?

He pried his eyes open to a night blacker than coal. "Wha – huh?" He blinked and shut his eyes again, too in pain to try.

"It's all right," the girl said. "I'm here. We're safe."

He licked his lips. "Thorne," he said, testing his voice. "Most people call me Thorne. Or Captain."

"Of course, Tho – Captain. Are you in pain?"

He tried to shift into a more comfortable position but his hands tied in front made maneuvering more difficult. He clenched his teeth as a particularly sharp flare of pain sparked in his skull. "I feel like my brain's about to leak out through my ears, but otherwise, I feel great."

He felt her fingers inspect back of his head. "You hit your head pretty hard," she remarked. He grunted in response and began to wiggle his hands out of the knotted, ratted blanket. "Hold on, there was that knife..."

"It fell off the bed," he reminded her. He opened his eyes again, struggling to pinpoint even the slightest light source. Where would they have landed that had such dark, dark nights?

"Yes, I saw it... there!" Fabric rustled as she reached to get it. The bed frame creaked as she fell back with a yelp, somehow tied to him.

He frowned. "I don't remember being tied together before."

"I'm sorry, my hair gets everywhere sometimes and... if you could just... here, roll this way."

So he hadn't imagined the hair. He felt her fingers pinch his elbow lightly and she nudged him onto his side. Scowling, he held himself still while she draped over him.

"Are you sure it's over–" He stopped when he felt her already sawing through the blanket. "Oh. You have a good memory."

"Hm?"

He listened to the scrape of the knife on the blanket and sighed with relief when it fell away. He rubbed his wrists and then reached toward his head. Something – her hair? – was still holding him back but he ignored it and pulled harder.

She crashed into his chest, though he was more focused on inspecting the back of his head to care. "Ow," he muttered.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"This bump is going to last a while. Here, feel this."

"What?"

He ran his hand along the ground until it brushed against hers and he pulled it to the back of his head. "I have a huge bump back here. No wonder I have such a headache."

When the girl spoke again, she sounded flustered. "Yes. Right. You should probably, um..." Her voice trailed off.

Thorne's eyebrows furrowed and he pulled at a lock of hair that had tangled around his arm. "We need to do something about this hair."

"Right. Right!"

He felt her shift away, stop, and begin to rearrange the many tresses.

"Maybe it would help it we turned on the lights."

She paused. "The lights?"

He tilted his head, thinking aloud. "Are they voice activated? If the computer system went down in the fall... spades, it must be the middle of the night. Is there a portscreen or something we can turn on, at least?"

"I... I don't understand."

How couldn't she see that they needed light? He exhaled, growing frustrated. "It would help if we could see." Thorne pried away a few strands of hair on his wrist and waved his hand in front of his face. "This is the blackest night I've ever seen. We must be somewhere rural... is it a new moon tonight?" His scowl deepened. "That doesn't seem right. Must be really overcast."

"Captain?" The girl's voice was tense. "It's... it isn't dark. I can see just fine."

Dread squirmed in his stomach. He blinked once, twice, three times. He swallowed. "Please tell me you're practicing your sarcasm."

"My sarcasm? Why would I do that?"

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Please, please, please... He opened them again, saw darkness still, and began to blink rapidly. He rubbed at his eyes, but the black remained.

He cursed.

The girl was silent.

Thorne felt his pulse quicken with anxiety. "What happened? The last thing I remember is trying to get under the bed."

"You hit your head on the bed frame, and I dragged you under here. And then we landed. A little rocky, but... that's all. You just hit your head."

"And that can cause _blindness_?" The word that had not bothered him until this day was acid on his tongue. He felt himself searching desperately for a solution, something that could fix this problem. He couldn't be blind – wouldn't be blind.

"It might be some sort of brain trauma," she suggested, her voice timid. "Maybe it's only temporary. Maybe... maybe you're in shock?"

Thorne settled his head on the floor. So he was blind. Fine. He was trapped with a girl who'd been stuck on a satellite for seven years and was probably a little crazy. Fine. He would deal. Careful to sound strong when he spoke, he said, "We need to do something about this hair. Where did that knife go?"

She pressed it into his hand and he lifted his hand, reaching slowly forward until it landed on her nose. She flinched at the sudden touch but didn't complain. He slid it to the side of her head and grasped a fistful of hair. "Sorry, but it grows back." Then he cut through it. He sawed through lock by lock, one handful at a time. The girl held perfectly still. He was glad of that – wouldn't want to accidentally stab her or anything. That would ruin the point of the rescue. Not that it had gone very well so far.

Finally, he cut through the last one. "I think that's it." He tucked the knife under his leg for safe keeping and buried his hands into her short hair, working out the remaining tangles.

He grinned with satisfaction, but weakly. He hoped it looked convincing. "Maybe a little jagged on the ends, but much better."

He sat back and listened to her assess her new hairstyle, purposely not letting himself think about the other thing.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome." He brushed away the hairs that still clung to him.

"And I'm really sorry... about the blindness."

He tensed, but he didn't let it stop him. "Not your fault."

"It is kind of my fault. If I hadn't asked you to come rescue me, and if I had–"

He waved his hand, cutting her off. "It's _not_ your fault. You sound like Cinder. She always blames herself for the stupidest things. The war is her fault. Scarlet's grandmother is her fault. I bet she'd take responsibility for the plague too, if she could." He picked up the knife and shimmied out from under the bed. He spread his arms in a wide circle, pushing away any debris and potential death-traps before pulling himself up onto the edge of the mattress.

"The point is," Thorne continued, "that witch tried to kill us, but we survived. And we'll find a way to contact the Rampion, and they'll come get us, and we'll be _fine_." He was trying to convince himself – to steady his squirming nerves, calm his ragged breathing, slow his pounding heart. He exhaled shakily. "I just need a moment to think," he said. "Figure out what we're going to do."

When the girl remained silent, Thorne lowered his head and clasped his hands in his lap. He felt trapped, even more so than before. He couldn't see beyond this blackness that had stolen the world from him, couldn't see past the impregnable curtain hung in front of color, of everything he knew. Every time he blinked, his brain told him to expect the world, but every time, he was disappointed. There was nothing.

He was blind.

He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. What was he going to do? What were they going to do? The girl had never been to Earth – and now Thorne couldn't see it. At all. It wasn't going to work and he couldn't win against it. It was impossible.

His hands began to shake. Could he still help? Would he even be able to _walk_ without tripping? He didn't know. He didn't know _so much_ and that knowledge was pounding down on him with every shaking, rattling breath he took.

He pressed his trembling fists onto his legs. This was a battle, an internal battle with external effects – and he would fight. He was Carswell Thorne, after all, and Carswell Thorne would fight. And he wasn't alone. He had the Lunar girl, and they would find Cinder and Iko and Wolf and Scarlet. He would go back to the Rampion, they would help him, and they would save the world.

That's how he decided it was going to happen.

That's how it had to happen.

After three carefully measured breaths, Thorne tilted his head up and drew a smile to his face. "Let's begin again, with some proper introductions. Did I hear your name was Crescent?"

"Just Cress, please."

It sent a wave of anxiety through him when he realized that the world around him lived and breathed color, that this girl – Cress – was a part of it all, yet Thorne was separated by the black hanging over his eyes. He should've been able to see her, to look at her when she talked to him, like she was certainly doing now, but he couldn't. He couldn't.

He clamped the thought down – hard.

Thorne extended his hand toward her and when he felt hers in his, he tugged her closer and pressed a kiss against her soft, smooth knuckles.

"Captain Carswell Thorne, at your service."


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:**

**Hello again! I'm very pleased with my luck in formatting this stuff so far. Hopefully that blessing holds out.**

**Anyway, something I forgot to post last chapter. At the beginning of every new section, I'll post something like this: **_**Chapter One (Chapter 13)**_**, which is one the first chapter should be. Basically what this means is whatever chapter I've written (**_**chapter one**_**), and then the chapter it corresponds to in the actual book**__**(**_**chapter 13**_**). Make sense?**

**My disclaimer: I do not own the Lunar Chronicles**

**And thank you to my two lovely reviewers, and that wonderful person who added this to their favorites!**

**Well, I think that's it. Reviews are always welcome, of course. Let's get this show on the road! :)**

Chapter Two (Chapter 15)

Thorne felt her pull away and cocked his head slightly. "I suppose it's too much to hope that we landed ourselves near any sort of civilization," he said. It would've been nice if things worked out for a change.

Light footsteps pattered over the tiled floor. "I'm not sure we want to be near civilization. You're a wanted criminal in three Earthen countries, and one of the most recognizable men on Earth."

He leaned back against the wall, feeling a surge of pride, and grinned in her general direction – or what he thought was her general direction. "I am pretty famous now, aren't I?" He waved his hand in dismissal. "I guess it doesn't matter what we want. What do you see out there?"

There was silence. Then, a soft breathing separating itself from the hush. But other than that, she offered nothing.

"Cress?"

She sighed dreamily. "It's beautiful out there."

A touch of bitterness tickled at his thoughts, surprising him. He shouldn't have to ask someone to describe what they saw. Thorne should've been able to see it for himself.

He wrinkled his nose – at himself, not at her. He was being silly. He was overreacting. He could handle this new predicament, just like he had in the past. He would adapt. Hopefully.

He tilted his head up. "Could you be more specific?"

"The sky is this gorgeous, intense blue color."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, good. You've really narrowed it down for me."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." Her voice trailed off. "I think we're in a desert."

A picture drew itself in his head with a big, endless blue sky, no clouds, a warm sun, and cliché animal skeletons littering the chunky sand. Probably something he saw on the net. "Cactuses and tumbleweeds?" he asked, more for clarification purposes. It didn't really matter to him what kind of desert they'd crashed in.

"No, just a lot of sand. It's kind of orangish-gold, with hints of pink, and I can see tiny clouds of it floating above the ground, like... like smoke."

Not a cliché western, then. He frowned thoughtfully and adjusted his mental picture. "Piled up in lots of hills?"

"Yes, exactly!" she answered enthusiastically. "And it's _beautiful_."

Thorne snorted. "If this is how you feel about a desert, I can't wait until you see your first real tree. Your mind will explode."

He listed his head when she didn't say anything. He imagined her peering out at the world, seeing so many things he didn't. Then he scowled. If he kept thinking like this, of _course_ he would feel bad and pessimistic about it. He just needed to think more... brightly.

Not to be ironic or anything.

He stood up and wobbled a little bit. When he gained his balance, he carefully shuffled across the floor towards her, kicking whatever his feet encountered out of the way.

"That explains the heat then," he said. "A desert would not have been my first choice. Do you see anything useful? Palm trees? Watering holes? A pair of camels out for a stroll?" Any one of those things would make it a whole lot better.

But not surprisingly, karma was set on kicking him while he was down.

"No," Cress said. Her voice was right in front of him, facing Thorne. "There's nothing else."

He held back a sigh. "All right, here's what I need you to do. First, find some way to contact the Rampion." He ticked off on his fingers. "The sooner we can get back on my ship, the better. Second, let's see if we can get that door open. We're going to be baked alive if the temperature keeps rising like this."

"The satellite was never installed with external communication abilities. The only chance we had of contacting your crew was the D-COMM chip that Sybil took. And even if we did have some way of contacting them, we won't be able to give exact coordinates unless the satellite positioning system is functioning, and even then–"

He held up his hands in a calming gesture. "One thing at a time. We have to let them know we're not dead, and check that they're all right too. I think they're capable of handling two measly Lunars, but it would put my mind at ease to be sure." He shrugged. "Once they know to start looking for us, maybe Cinder can whip up a giant metal detector or something."

"I'm not sure anything is salvageable." Her voice had turned away from him. She was probably looking around the decimated satellite. "The screens are all destroyed, and judging from the loss of temperature regulation, the generator is – oh, no."

Thorne froze. Oh, no, what?

"_Little Cress!_"

She clattered her way across the satellite at startling speeds, almost so much that Thorne couldn't keep up – both audibly and with her words. He had no clue what she was talking about.

"Oh, Little Cress," she mourned. Her voice was much farther down now, on the ground.

"Um, who's Little Cress?" He was almost afraid to ask.

She sniffed. "Me. When I was ten. She lived in the computer and kept me company and now she's dead. Poor, sweet Little Cress."

Thorne bit his lip, puzzled by the first true sign of insanity she'd shown. "Scarlet did warn me about this," he murmured. He cleared his throat. "Do we need to bury Little Cress before we can move on? Want me to say a few words for her?"

There was a short pause. "I'm not crazy," she insisted. "I know she's just a computer. It's just... I programmed her myself, and she was the only friend I had. That's all."

That was relieving. He grinned slightly. "Hey, I'm not judging. I'm familiar with IT-relations. Just wait until you meet our spaceship. She's a riot." He chuckled, remembering Iko's many antics. Then he stopped as a thought struck him. "Speaking of spaceships, what about the other pod, the one the guard docked with?"

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that!"

Thorne listened to her clamber to her feet and pick her way across the satellite once again. He debated following her but when the sound of her actually tripping and falling down reached his ears, he decided to stay put.

She grunted from across the room. It sounded strained. Then there was a piercing squeak and a thump, but no word from her on what she was doing. He exhaled and began the careful trek over to her, hands outstretched. He only stumbled once.

His palms landed on her back and he corrected his positioning, sliding his fingers along smooth metal. They were standing in front of the sliding door, he realized – trying to pry it open. Thorne wedged his hand in the gap and pushed it into the wall, making a hole big enough for them to walk through.

The pungent odor of burnt plastic and rubber washed over him and he wrinkled his nose. "Please tell me it looks better than it smells."

"Not really. The ship is destroyed, and it looks like all the instruments too."

"All right. Next plan." He rubbed his eyes, growing steadily more frustrated. "We have no way of contacting the Rampion and they have no way of knowing we're alive. Probably won't do us much good to stay here and hope someone passes by. We're going to have to try and find some sort of civilization."

"It looked like the sun was setting," she said. "So at least we won't be walking in the heat."

That would've been nice to know a while ago. But then again, he hadn't asked, so it wasn't really fair to blame Cress. Besides, he was supposed to be thinking positively.

"This time of year the nights shouldn't be too cold, no matter which hemisphere we've landed in." He folded his arms. "We need to gather up all the supplies we can carry. Do you have any more blankets? And you'll want a jacket."

"I don't have a jacket. I've never needed one."

He sighed. "Figures."

"I do have another dress that isn't quite so worn as this one."

"Pants would be better."

"These dresses are all Sybil brought me. I... I don't have any shoes, either."

"No shoes?" He massaged his temples. "All right, fine. I went through survival training in the military. I can figure this out."

If she had any socks, they would use them but based on what she'd already said, they would probably be thin or worn out and wouldn't help much.

"I do have a few bottles we can fill with water," Cress offered. "And plenty of food packs."

He angled his head towards her voice, picturing her standing in front of him, minus the wild blonde hair. "It's a start," he said. "Water is our first priority. Dehydration will be a much bigger threat than hunger. Do you have any towels?"

"A couple."

"Good. Bring those, and something we can use for rope." He curled his toes and raised his left foot. "While you're at it, do you have any idea where my other boot ended up?"

**oooOooo**

Thorne kept track of where his materials were. The rope was gripped tightly in his left hand. He had the towel pinched between his right pointer finger and thumb. Her tiny foot was situated on his knee. He had it all under control.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do that?" she asked.

He scowled and fingered the length of the rope. "I may be temporarily blind, but I'm not useless. I can still tie good knots." He looped the hair around her ankle, then the arch of her foot, and back around, securing it with a fancy knot he'd learned in Australia. "We want them to be nice and tight. If the fabric is too loose it will rub and give you blisters." He sat back. "How does that feel?"

"Good."

With Cress's "shoes" all settled, they packed up all the food packs she had in a blanket and filled up her water bottles to the bursting. Those went in their little sack, too. A thought crept up on him as they were putting the medical kit in the bag. Thorne debated internally if it was important enough, fighting pride against practicality, and naturally, the logical side won.

"Cress?" he said.

"Yes? Is there something I forgot?"

He shook his head. "No, I was just wondering if there was something I could use as a cane. For walking."

He felt especially helpless saying it out loud and he regretted it for longer than he should've, but then her hand was on his forearm and she was tugging him across the satellite

"Would this work?" she asked.

Thorne's shins bumped into something hard – her bed. He knelt down and ran his hands over the frame. "If there's an easy way to take it apart, then yeah, this'll work fine."

He found the screws on one end and twisted them out. The metal bar creaked and collapsed on his lap. Cress followed suit with her side and soon he had a bar that would work.

He tested the weight. It was heavy and awkward and would probably get really hot in the desert sun, but it would have to do.

They both drank as much water as they could stand and after she announced there was nothing left worth taking, Thorne went to stand by the exterior door. From his left he heard Cress pull the lever with a jarring _kathunk_. The door's hydraulics hissed and he slid his fingers into the slightly opened space, pushing half the door into its wall socket.

A breeze of dry, hot air brushed past his face. It wasn't unpleasant, but he suspected he would come to hate it by the time this little escapade was over.

Thorne situated their supply bundle on his shoulder and took a step towards Cress, kicking unseen debris out of the way. He held out his hand to her. "Lead the way."

With her small hand in his, they took one step – the first of many, if his guess was correct.

He felt the change of terrain go from hard and smooth to soft and uneven. Sand. Hopefully this was the smooth kind of sand without rocky obstacles for him to trip over. According to Cress's description, that's what it sounded like.

But he didn't know for sure.

Thorne hadn't taken four steps when Cress stumbled and fell back against him. He winced and gripped her arms, steadying her. "What? What is it?"

Her slim frame began to tremble under his fingertips.

"Cress." His hands tightened apprehensively. "What happened? What do you see?"

She took a shaky breath. "It – it's so big."

"What's so big?"

"Everything. Earth. The sky. It didn't seem so big from space."

He felt her turn away and sniffle. Thorne realized she was crying. He slid his hands to her shoulders and shook her.

"Stop it!" he yelled.

She hiccupped.

"What is the number one thing people die from in the desert?"

"Wh-what?"

"The number one cause of deaths. What is it?"

"De-dehydration?"

"And what does crying do?"

She hesitated a moment. "Dehydrates?"

"Exactly." He let his grip relax. "It's all right to be scared. I get that until now most of your existence has been contained in two hundred square meters. In fact, so far you've shown yourself to be saner than I expected."

He paused to take a breath and heard a hushed cry – but not full blown sobbing.

He pressed on. "But I need you to pull yourself together. You may have noticed that I'm not exactly in prime form right now, and I am relying on you to be aware and observant and help us find our way out of this, because if we don't..."

Thorne wondered if scaring her would make her calm down. Probably not. He decided to sugarcoat it.

"I don't know about you, but I'm just not fond of the idea of being stranded out here and eaten alive by vultures. So, can I depend on you to hold it together? For both of us?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not convinced that you fully grasp the situation here, Cress. We will be eaten. Alive. By vultures. Can you visualize that for a second?"

"Y-yes. Vultures. I understand."

"Good. Because I _need_ you. And those are not words that I throw around every day. Now, are you going to be all right?"

"Yes. Just give me – I need a moment."

Thorne waited expectantly.

"I am an explorer setting courageously off into the wild unknown," she murmured. Her voice was getting stronger. "My life is an adventure." Then her words were steady and confident. "I will not be shackled to this satellite anymore."

He tilted his head. He just couldn't decide if this tiny Lunar girl was crazy or not. But considering he had no other options and neither did she, they had to work together. Maybe it would work out.

Thorne slid his hand down into hers. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "But we'll go with it."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three (Chapter 16)

He tested the weight of his cane, wrapping his fingers around it. It was heavy, like he'd guessed. Their supply bag was the same way, but he wasn't going to make her carry it. She was so small, and probably not very strong.

Gently pinching her elbow, he took a step. Another step. And another. The makeshift cane nearly got stuck in the sand and he adjusted his grip. But he was walking. At least he could do that much.

He kept track of where he put his feet. Not that he could see where he put them, but it would be embarrassing to trip over his own shoes.

Cress gasped suddenly. He squeezed her elbow, silent with apprehension. She could be seeing so many things – dangerous or harmless, but he wouldn't know until she told him.

"There are mountains," she breathed.

He allowed his hands to loosen and narrowed his eyes. "Mountains, or glorified hills?"

"I think..." She paused. "Real mountains. But it's getting dark, and I can't see any white on top. Do mountains always have snow?"

"Not always," he said. "How far are they?"

"Um..."

Thorne bit back a sigh. It wasn't fair to be frustrated with this girl who'd been locked in a satellite for half her life. She wouldn't ever have needed to know miles, or kilometers. "Never mind," he said quickly. He tapped his cane against the ground in slight impatience. "What direction are they in?"

She wrapped her delicate fingers around his palm and lifted it to his left. He cocked his head, perplexed. "So that must be... south, right?" He adjusted his pointed finger to what he thought was west. "The sun set over there?"

Cress didn't answer immediately. When she did, her voice carried a little warble. "Yes," she whispered. He thought about commenting on it but after a brief reflection, he decided she sounded more awed than upset.

"Do you see any plant life?" he asked. "Anything other than sand and mountains?" Thorne was curious to know if there were any animal skeletons too, but that seemed trivial in comparison to other, more urgent matters. Like survival.

"Not from here. But I can hardly see anything..."

Once again, bitterness swelled inside of him, threatening to force the words out of his mouth. _He couldn't see anything either_, and he had a feeling that she was probably exaggerating.

"There's our parachute," Cress added. He forced the thoughts away and pulled his attention back to their unfortunate predicament.

"We should cut off a piece," he said. "It could come in handy, especially if it's waterproof."

She tugged him across the sand, and he was grateful that she went at a slow pace so he could figure out how to use his cane without digging it into the hilly, uneven sand. Then they reached the parachute – he heard the fabric rustling in the breeze.

They cut off a square large enough to use as a tarp. With it neatly folded in their supply bundle, they stood up and even though nothing was said, Thorne knew she was waiting for him.

If they stayed here, they would have shelter, but no guarantee that anybody would pass. If they went off anywhere across this desert, they would probably – most likely – run out of water, but they might end up at an oasis or something. If they went the unknown distance to the mountains, there might be shelter or water or something that could help.

"Let's head toward the mountains," Thorne decided, a bit of uncertainty creeping into his tone. "It will keep us from walking directly into the sun in the morning, and with any luck they'll offer some shelter, and maybe even water."

He took hold of Cress's elbow and they started up the next dune. It was a strange, not seeing his feet when he walked. Every step he took could land him on a rock, down a hill, on a shoelace, or even on his Lunar companion's little feet. But nothing happened, and the wave of the sand slowly lost some of its mystery.

Thorne couldn't keep his mind from wandering. How long would they travel in this desert? How long until the water ran out? He heard it sloshing around in the bottles tucked into the bag. They weren't in danger of dehydration – yet.

Then more depressing thoughts rained down on him. How long would he be blind? Was this... not temporary? Would he never see anything... ever? Would he ever see his friends, Cinder and Scarlet and Wolf and Iko?

He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. It may have been only his imagination, but he already felt thirsty.

Suddenly, he was falling. It was the worst feeling he could recall, surprise and fear of what was to come. He could hit anything, at any moment, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He yelped and then his hands were in the grainy sand.

He'd tripped. He'd tripped, that's all. It shouldn't have been a big deal, yet it left his heart pounding and his breathing was shallow. He'd fallen, and it surprised him, scared him almost more than the crazy mutant wolf attack.

A hand landed on his back and he flinched.

"Are you all right?"

Thorne shook her hand off roughly. Yes, it was mean, but his thoughts were a mixture of anger and bitterness and fear and frustration, all taunting him with what he'd lost. His fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't calm himself down. He felt like screaming.

"Captain?"

Her voice was small and for a terrifying moment, Thorne wanted to scream and yell and shake his fists at her to go away and leave him be. But she couldn't do that – he wouldn't do that.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

Slowly, he noticed that he wasn't raging on the inside anymore. He was calming down. Her presence was calming him down. He was still frustrated of course, but it wasn't overwhelming like before.

"I," he began, forcing the words out, "am not happy with this turn of events." That was all he would allow himself to say because he feared that if he tried to say anything else, it would all come pouring out and he'd never be able to live it down.

"What can I do?"

He glared at whatever was in front of him, still feeling a bit like a child in a tantrum. He knew his face was probably not friendly, but quite frankly, he didn't care. "Nothing," he said. There wasn't anything she could do, unless she had some hidden magic that could heal his eyes or whatever made it happen. He reached his arm back, searching for the cane, and wrapped his fingers around it. "I can do this. I just need to figure it out."

Slowly climbing to his feet, he yanked the traitorous cane out of the sand. "Actually, if you could try to give me some warning when we're coming up on a hill, or about to start heading down again, that would help."

"Of course. We're almost to the top of..." Her voice hitched. "Almost to the top of this dune."

He tilted his head curiously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just... I can see Luna. That's all."

A vivid image of a bright, full moon sprung to mind, surrounded by thousands of twinkling stars. He knew that it wasn't time for the full moon yet, but he didn't have the energy or the willpower to picture something else.

Thorne knelt over and brushed invisible sand from his knees. It was already starting to itch, and they hadn't even been out here for an hour.

"Wait – the constellations," Cress said, fabric rustling as she pulled away from him.

He frowned. "What?"

"There – there's Pegasus, and Pisces, and – oh!" she exclaimed. "It's Andromeda!"

"What are you... oh." He pushed the cane down into the sand and leaned against it, reminded once again of what he could not see. "For navigation." He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, imagining all the stars he'd learned in astronomy class. "Those are all Northern Hemisphere constellations. That rules out Australia, at least."

"Wait," she said. "Give me a minute. I can figure this out."

So he waited, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on his cane. If she could figure it out, maybe she wasn't crazy after all.

"I think we're in northern Africa," she concluded. "Or possibly the Commonwealth, in one of the western provinces."

His brow furrowed, calling upon his astronomy and geography lessons. He never would have guessed that school would be so helpful. "Could be the Sahara," he mused. Then his shoulders slumped. It didn't matter where they were. They were both trapped in a desert with no end in sight – literally – and knowing which continent they were on didn't do much good. "Let's keep heading toward those mountains."

Her elbow brushed his hand and after a moment, he squeezed it gently and let go. "Throws off my balance," he explained. He lifted his cane and pushed it forward, testing the length between him and the sand so he wouldn't stick it into the ground again. Once was enough. "I'll be fine."

Then they were off, up one dune and down the next. Thorne was not... comfortable with his new circumstance, but he knew that it was useless to complain. Their only conversation was when Cress announced the top of a dune, or the beginning of a new one.

At the moment, he was okay.

He would be okay.

**Authors Note:**

**Okay, this chapter was incredibly fun to write. I feel so sorry for Thorne... but then again, it made the story a whole lot more stressful. Thanks a bunch to those **_**three wonderful people**_** who added this to their favorites and the **_**two awesome people**_** who followed it! (yay!)**

**I'll say this again... I don't own the Lunar Chronicles. But I am a very big fan. :)**

**Okay, one last thing: I am choosing to ignore the end of **_**Cress**_** and instead of continuing this story through **_**Winter**_**, I am just going to do a bunch of fluffy stuff once I get to the last chapter of **_**Cress**_**. I am very much open to suggestions about what y'all want to read about. I'll write it! (examples include something like Thorne and Cinder having a rematch at their Royals game... Thorne and Kai having their first full conversation... Thorne and Cress romancey stuff... I'm open to anything!)**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Sorry I haven't posted sooner. But here it is, and with underlying romantic text! Yay!**

**As always, I don't own the Lunar Chronicles. My story will never be as good as Marissa Meyer's is. They don't even compare.**

**Lots of thankyous to my SIX followers! Thank you times a million to my FOUR favorites! And thank you plus a million to my THREE reviewers! **_**Thank you thank you thank you!**_

**As of this very moment, this story has 494 views. Don't really know what consists of a "view", since I am new to this world of fanfiction, but the traffic-graph thingy says that I have some views as far away as Australia, Canada, Palestinian Territory, New Zealand, Germany, the UK, the Philippines, Venezuela, Spain, Portugal, Iceland, and Poland! WOW! I don't think I could pinpoint all those places on a map. Just **_**wow**_**!**

**Okay. I'm done. Enjoy!**

Chapter Four (Chapter 18)

The movement of the sand underneath his feet confused him. One step, it would be soft and his foot would sink into the ground but the next would bring him into contact with a rock or tough clump of sand. His cane was probably leaving a trail where he was dragging it – a light, embarrassingly zigzagged trail across the barren land.

Cress could see all of this. She saw him trip on his own feet, which actually happened more often than falling over a rock or something. She saw him wobble when he lost his balance. With every new addition to his list of pathetic moments, he wondered how long it would be until she commented on it. He probably looked hilarious. But the remark never came.

He shifted his cane to his other hand and readjusted their supply bundle from time to time. It wasn't pleasant – none of this was pleasant. He wasn't going to stop trying, though. He figured he had an obligation to finish Cress's rescue, however skewed it already was.

If it weren't for the sound of her breathing or her footsteps, Thorne would've felt utterly alone. Lost. Helpless. Everything was scary and unfamiliar, but she kept him grounded, and he held it together for her. It was an unspoken exchange. He wondered if Cress had recognized it yet.

She would make little whimpers occasionally. He tried to imagine what this would be like for her. As small as she was, and considering how she grew up, he doubted she'd ever been much of an athlete. Now she was expected to get up and march across the desert with inadequate shoes and clothes, just like that.

She must've been exhausted.

Try as he might, he couldn't imagine the detailed picture he was used to of what she looked like in that moment. He'd read somewhere, a long time ago, that a person couldn't imagine a face they had never seen. But he _had_ seen her – albeit briefly. Her hair was tangled and frizzy and blonde, short where it used to be long. He'd only seen it long. Now he imagined it cropped, fanning her face in golden strands.

Her face. Her eyes were blue, weren't they? He supposed they could be green and still match her complexion. Or maybe her eyes were a mix of blue and green. They could've been brown for all he knew, though he doubted it. When he saw her before, he'd only noticed her crazy-long hair.

Thorne knew she was short. Shorter than Cinder and Scarlet, definitely, at least by a few inches. She barely came up to his collarbone, and he knew what her voice sounded like.

He hadn't paid attention to her facial appearance as much as he did her hair. He didn't expect to be relying merely on memory. But he was, and his memory was flawed.

He decided to imagine her with blue eyes. Bright blue like the afternoon sky. It seemed fitting.

Thorne began to notice that their pace was slower. He cocked his head and listened, but just as he did, Cress sped back up to normal.

She was tiring. They would have to rest soon.

A while later, though with no complaints, it happened again. Their speed slowed dramatically and he almost reached out to ask her if she needed a break, but she quickened her feet just as he lifted his hand.

It happened twice after that.

"Why do we keep slowing down?" he asked finally. His voice was rough.

He heard her stumble. "Oh," she said, flustered. "Um. I was looking at the stars."

Then they walked in silence, and their walking remained perfectly constant. His thoughts drifted in circles, going from wondering what was happening with Cinder, Wolf, Scarlet, and Iko on his ship. He knew they probably got away from the thaumaturge. Cinder and Wolf could handle her easily.

The real question was what they thought of him.

_Did they think he was dead?_

Though the concept made him shudder, it was perfectly reasonable for them to think it. The satellite fell from the sky and crashed to Earth. If Cress hadn't done her parachute-code-override-thing, they both would've been pancakes hours ago.

Morbid, but true.

Hours later, his mind was grasping for something new to think about – _anything_. Anything to keep him from succumbing to the turmoil lurking behind the carefully bricked wall he'd constructed in his brain.

He exhaled. "Do you need to take a break?" he asked. They couldn't keep walking forever. Probably.

"N-no," she huffed. "We're almost to the top of this dune."

He raised his eyebrows. Her voice was laced with fatigue. "Sure? No point passing out from exhaustion." He wished she'd take the hint.

But she kept walking.

"Really," he pressed. "Let's take a break." He stabbed his cane into the grainy sand and set the supply bundle beside it. After a spine-popping stretch that felt wonderful, he sat down. Cress sat next to him.

He swept his hand across the ground and grabbed the bag, loosening the ties and groping around for the two water bottles. For such clunky things, they were very evasive. He finally found them and handed one to Cress.

"Shouldn't we ration it?" she asked.

He shook his head and swallowed a sweet mouthful. "It's best to drink when we're thirsty, and just try to keep sweating to a minimum – as much as possible. Our bodies will be better able to maintain hydration that way, even if we do run out of water." He took another drink. "And we should avoid eating until we find another water source. Digestion uses up a lot of water too."

He never would have guessed that the torture known as school would be so helpful.

"That's fine," Cress said. "I'm not hungry."

They both took one last drink and set off down the dune, off on yet another endless walk through a deadly landscape.

"What do you think is happening on your ship?" Cress asked. "Do you think Mistress Sybil..."

"They're fine," he interrupted. He was surprised at how firm and confident he sounded. "I pity the person who goes up against Wolf, and Cinder's made of tougher stuff than people realize." He chuckled at his own accidental joke, remembering her heavy metallic leg clanking down the hall. "Literally, in fact."

"Wolf. That must be the other man on the ship?"

"Yes, and Scarlet is his... well, I don't really know what they call themselves, but he's lunatic-crazy for her. Scarlet's not a bad shot, herself. That thaumaturge had no idea what she was walking into."

There was a brief silence, punctured only by the gentle swipes of his cane over the sand and their footsteps.

"So how did a girl born on Luna get stuck in a satellite and become an Earthen sympathizer anyway?" The question had been tickling his thoughts for a while now. He didn't understand why they would want her to remain a prisoner instead of staying home on the moon.

"Well. When my parents found out I was a shell, they gave me up to be killed, because of the infanticide laws. But Mistress saved me and raised me instead, along with some other shells she'd rescued. She mostly just wanted us for some sort of experiments they're always running, but Mistress never really explained it to me. We used to live in some of the lava tubes that had been converted into dormitories, and we were always being monitored by these cameras that were connected to Luna's communication system. It was sort of cramped, but not too bad, and we had ports and netscreens, so we weren't entirely cut off from the outside world. After a while I got really good at hacking into the communication system, which I mostly just used for silly stuff. We were all curious about school, so I used to hack into the Lunar school system and download the study guides, things like that."

Cress had never gone to school. He thought that may have played a part in forming her naivety.

"Then one day, one of the older boys – Julian – asked me if I thought I could find out who his parents were. It took a couple of days, but I did, and we learned that his parents lived in one of the lumber domes, and that they were both alive, and that he had two younger siblings. And then we figured out how to send them a message and tell them that he was alive."

Thorne frowned at the change in her tone. It was very subtle, but it gave him a queer feeling.

"He thought that if they knew he hadn't been killed after all, they would come find him. We got so excited, thinking we could all contact our families. That we would all be rescued." She paused and took a deep breath. "It was really naive, of course. The next day, Mistress came and took Julian away, and then some technicians removed all of the monitoring equipment so we couldn't access the net anymore. I never saw Julian again. I think... I think his parents must have contacted the authorities when they got his comm, and I think he may have been killed, to prove that the infanticide laws were being taken seriously.

"After that, Mistress Sybil started to pay more attention to me. She sometimes took me out of the caverns and up into the domes and gave me different tasks. Altering the coding of the broadcast system. Tapping into netlinks. Programming intelligence software to pick up on specific verbal cues and divert information into separate comm accounts. At first I loved it. Mistress was nice to me then, and it meant I got to leave the city. I felt like I was becoming her favorite, and that if I did what she asked me to do, eventually it wouldn't matter that I was a shell anymore, and I would be allowed to go to school and be just like any normal Lunar."

Before Thorne had gone to the satellite, when they were first contacting Cress, she'd said that she had been on the satellite for seven years. She couldn't be much older than sixteen, if his guess was correct, so he could only dream of what she was capable of now, hacker-wise.

"Well, one day Sybil asked me to hack a communication between a couple of European diplomats and I told her that the signal was too weak. I needed to be closer to Earth, and I required better net connectivity, and advanced software..."

That sounded exactly like a satellite orbiting Earth. He twisted the cane in his hand.

"A few months later, Mistress came to get me, and told me we were going on a trip. We boarded a podship, and I was so, so excited. I thought she was taking me to Artemisia, to be presented to the queen herself, to be forgiven for being born a shell. It feels so stupid now. Even when we started flying away from Luna, and I saw that we were heading toward Earth, I thought that's where we were going. I figured, all right, maybe Lunars really can't accept me this way, but Mistress knows that Earthens will. So she's letting me go to Earth, instead. The trip took hours and hours and by the end of it I was shaking with excitement, and I'd worked up this whole story in my head, how Mistress was going to give me to some nice Earthen couple, and they would raise me as their own, and they lived in an enormous tree house – I don't know why I thought they would live in a tree house, but for some reason that's what I was hoping for. I mean, I'd never seen real trees." Something in her voice tightened. "Still haven't, actually."

Thorne exhaled slowly. "And that's when she took you to the satellite, and you became the queen's programmer."

"Programmer, hacker, spy... somehow, I never stopped believing that if I did everything she asked, someday they would let me go."

It was such a depressing story. It made Thorne feel immensely grateful to his mother and father, though he'd done everything in his youthful power to make them analyze the effectiveness of their parenting skills. "And how long before you decided that you'd rather be trying to save Earthen royalty than spy on them?"

"I don't know. I was always fascinated by Earth. I spent a lot of time reading Earthen news and watching their dramas. I started to feel connected to the people down there... down here. More than I ever did to Lunars. After a while, I started to pretend that I was a secret guardian, and it was my job to protect Earth and its people from Levana."

Thorne really had been horrible to his parents. He remembered wishing that they would go away and let him do his own thing instead of doing what they told him to. But he was rethinking all of that after hearing this tiny, innocent Lunar girl who never had parents and went on to try and save the Earth from her tyrannical queen. All Thorne had done was cause Earth more trouble.

He sighed. "If I'd been in your position, and I had only one D-COMM chip that I could use to communicate with Earth, I would have found some dirt on a hotshot spaceship pilot and blackmailed him into coming to get me out of that satellite, rather than trying to rescue the emperor."

"No, you wouldn't have. You would have done the same thing I did, because you know that the threat Levana poses to Earth is much bigger than you or me... much bigger than any of us."

He shook his head. "That's very good of you to say, Cress. But trust me. I would have blackmailed someone." When she didn't say anything else, Thorne realized that he'd gotten what he wanted – a distraction.

He knew just what kind of person Cress was.

He knew just what kind of person he was.

One was a hero. One was not.

Thorne sighed and pushed the thoughts away, very hesitantly allowing himself to think about the blindness.

He needed a new distraction.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five (Chapter 20)

Thorne slipped in and out of dreams – the weird kind where nothing made sense. One minute, he was home and the next, he was on his spaceship. The _really_ bizarre one had him in a wrestling arena against Cinder and she punched him with her metal fist, but that ended hardly before it started. Then there was another segment where he was flying, and then falling, and then flying again before everything went black. But the next thing he knew, he was up and running from Wolf waving a can of tomatoes around and Scarlet waving her pistol. Then he was back on the Rampion and arguing with Iko about where they should land to stop for food, but she wasn't letting him choose because she wanted to go to Los Angeles or something, while he wanted to go to the Bahamas. Then Cinder popped out of nowhere and said that she wanted to go to Europe, which wasn't all that odd, but when they did go to Europe, it was actually a really big desert.

Very strange.

Then he was awake and his eyes snapped open.

The world was black.

Memories came rushing back, drowning him in a wave of power. He was blind. He was blind and stuck in a desert. He was blind, stuck in a desert, and was running out of water. He was blind, stuck in a desert, running out of water, and had to help this Lunar girl to safety.

Normally, Thorne was okay with mornings. But this one stood out amongst the crowd of _really, really terrible mornings._

He groaned quietly.

He ran his hands along the tarp they'd covered themselves in hours before, searching for the corners. The morning's rising heat steamed around them and though he really, _really_ didn't want to, Thorne knew they had to get moving.

Cress stirred beside him. He slid his hand to her arm and said, "Hold still. The tarp may have gathered some dew. We shouldn't let it go to waste."

"Dew?"

"Water that comes up from the ground."

Together, they found the edges of the tarp and lift them up. Then they shimmied out from beneath it.

"It's just muddy water," she said quietly.

His face fell in disappointment. There was no telling what parasites or germs were lurking in that water and though he was tempted to use it, they weren't dangerously low on clean water – not yet, anyway. Thorne shrugged and crossed his arms. "At least we still have plenty of water from the satellite."

He listened to her light breathing as it turned away from him. "How are your eyes?" she asked.

Thorne stiffened. A bitter grin twisted his lips. "Well, I've been told they're dreamy, but I'll let you decide for yourself." Still bleary from sleep, he hadn't rationalized his anger quite yet, so he was still acting childish and cynical. He didn't have the energy yet to act happy. Plus, his head was muddled with fragments of dreams and something he couldn't quite remember.

"I couldn't disagree," Cress murmured.

His smile softened and he guessed that he did have the energy to at least _attempt_ a little cheer.

They packed up their supplies into the little bag, which was lighter with less water. Thorne dug around in the bag and pulled out two former bed sheets. "We'll use these as robes, kind of," he said. He stood and positioned the sheet like a robe, blocking the sun's harmful rays. He finished with his and asked, "Is your head covered?"

The sheets rustled as she tried to mimic his style. "Yes," she confirmed.

"Good. Your skin is going to crisp up like bacon soon enough. This will help for a little while at least."

He ran his foot along the sand, searching for his cane. He bent over to pick it up and winced at the heated metal. He hoped it wouldn't scald his fingers all day long.

Then they set off, once more on an endless journey to an unknown destination. Cress guided him, telling him in her quiet voice when the terrain was changing or the slope of the ground. Her voice sounded tired. Thorne doubted that they'd slept for more than a couple of hours, having walked what he thought was most of the night, and she was undoubtedly exhausted.

His guess was confirmed when she stumbled and fell. Her sudden trip made Thorne lose his balance, though he remained upright. He held out his hands to help her up and said, "Cress?"

"I'm fine," she said. She pulled herself up. "Just a little drained. I'm not used to all this exercise."

Her voice told him that she was standing fully upright. His hands sank to his side in slight embarrassment. "Can you keep going?"

"Yes. I just need to get into a rhythm again."

Thorne wasn't convinced, but they needed to keep moving forward. "We'll walk until it gets too hot, then rest. We don't want to exert ourselves too much, especially under full sun."

He listened to Cress as they walked. He knew that she would keep going, but that didn't mean she would tell him if she really _needed_ to stop. It had to be his job to judge when they needed a rest, especially her. They just had to make it through this desert and then their problem would be solved.

Sweat trickled down his nose and he swiped at it. The cane in his hand burned him when he shifted grips, but it helped him stay upright, so he dealt with it. Thorne lost track of how long they walked, timing only by the heat of the sun and Cress's level of exhaustion.

He was worried about her.

Later in the day when they stopped for a brief water break, he pulled out a bottle and handed it to her. The water sloshed until there was none left. Thorne put the bottle back in the bag, and though he was tempted to open the other one and quench his thirst. He was so, so thirsty. But he didn't and they kept walking.

After a while, Cress began to sing. It surprised him at first, and he thought about telling her to stop, but it was calming and kind of nice. He liked the different lyrics and thought some of them were rather amusing, coming from her.

_I have often dreamed_

_of a far off place_

_where a great warm welcome_

_will be waiting for me._

_Where crowds will cheer_

_when they see my face_

_and a voice keeps saying,_

_this is where I'm meant to be._

He sighed, wondering just how long they would have to travel across this barren desert, how far they would have to go. His clothes were filthy, his shoes were filled with sand, and he could only guess as to what condition Cress's towel-shoes were in. He frowned. Maybe he should've checked those before they started off this morning.

_I will find my way._

_I can go the distance._

_I'll be there someday,_

_if I can be strong._

_I know every mile, _

_will be worth my while._

_I would go most anywhere_

_to feel like I belong._

Cress's melody swelled and he could hear the smile in her voice.

_I am on my way._

_I can go the distance!_

_I don't care how far!_

_Somehow I'll be strong._

_I know every mile_

_will be worth my while!_

_I would go most anywhere_

_to find where I belong!_

Thorne swept his sleeve across his face and shifted the supply bundle. The last bottle of water bounced against his back, reminding him yet again of his sandpaper tongue. But for now, he was enraptured by Cress's simple but wonderful lyrics.

_And I won't look back._

_I can go the distance._

_I'll stay on track._

_No, I won't accept defeat._

_It's an uphill slope_

_but I won't lose hope_

_till I go the distance_

_and my journey is complete._

She held the note as it died down to a whisper.

_But to look beyond the glory is the hardest part._

_For a hero's strength is measured by his heart._

Then her voice rose to the climax and Thorne grinned.

_Like a shooting star_

_I will go the distance!_

_I will search the world, _

_I will right its wrong!_

_I don't care how far!_

_I can go the distance_

_till I find my hero's welcome_

_right where I belong!_

**oooOooo**

Cress sang through several other songs, finally settling down to the softer, prettier ones. She sang several until one caught Thorne's full attention – a haunting, sad melody that held very mystical lyrics.

_Sweet crescent moon _

_Up in the sky. _

_You sing your song so sweetly _

_After sunshine passes by. _

_Sweet crescent moon _

_Watch as I sing _

_The song of your light shining _

_And the hope you always bring._

_Oh, how you gleam_

_Oh, how you gleam_

_Oh, how your light will send_

_the angel of my dreams. _

_Oh, simple things_

_Oh, simple things_

_Oh, how all these simple things _

_Will give us peaceful dreams._

"That one's pretty," he said as she let the last note fade to silence.

Cress hesitated before she answered. "Thank you," she said uncertainly. "It's a popular lullaby on Luna. I used to think that I'd been named for it, before I realized what a common name 'Crescent' is. _Sweet crescent moon, up in the sky. You sing your song so sweetly after sunshine passes by_..."

Thorne once again questioned the sanity of the Lunars singing their children such a sad, chilling song, but he was smiling nonetheless. "Your mom sang you a lot of lullabies?" he asked.

"Oh, no," she said immediately. "They can tell you're a shell right when you're born, so I was only a few days when my parents gave me up to be killed. I don't remember them at all."

His smile vanished. For every hour he spent with Cress, he learned something that made him hate Lunars even more – and fear them, too. And though he didn't want to kill the mood her singing had set, he said, "You probably shouldn't be singing, now that I think of it. You'll lose moisture through your mouth."

After that, they walked on in silence. Thorne's thoughts remained on Lunars and their crazy society until he realized that it was probably midday, which was when he'd promised Cress a rest. "All right," he said. "That's enough. Let's rest until the temperature goes down again." He shifted their supply bundle to his other hand. "Do you see any shade at all? Or someplace that looks like it might be shaded when the sun starts going down?"

She pulled on his arm lightly. "This way."

They had just started down another dune when Cress froze and grabbed his arm. Her grip was rigid.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Water. And... and trees!"

"An oasis?"

"Yes! It must be!" She pulled him down the dune quickly. "Come on – it isn't far."

He stumbled after her, barely managing to keep his footing. "Cress. Cress, wait! Reserve your energy!"

"But we're almost there."

"Cress!"

She ran ahead of him and he followed, desperately wishing to keep his balance and not fall flat on his face. This was by far the fastest he had gone the entire trek.

He heard Cress slow ahead of him and he caught up, panting. "Cress, are you _sure_?"

"Of course I'm sure. It's right there."

He gripped his cane tighter. How could he explain it? "But... Cress."

She stopped. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Thorne shook his head. "No, just..." He decided to hold out hope of the oasis. "All right. All right, I can keep up. Let's get to this oasis." Maybe they would be lucky and have some fresh water soon.

Cress grabbed his hand excitedly and led him over the waves and ripples of the sand. Thorne waited for any sign of the oasis to reach him, but he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary desert sounds.

"Cress?" he said finally.

"Captain," she huffed. "It's... it isn't far."

"Cress, is it getting any closer?"

She stumbled and came to a stop next to him. "Captain?"

"Do you see it getting closer? Do the trees look bigger than they were before?"

She was silent.

That was all the answer Thorne needed. Her verbal response only confirmed it.

"N-no. But that's... how could..."

He sighed resignedly. "It's a mirage, Cress. It's the light playing tricks on your eyes."

"But... I can _see_ it. There are even islands in the lake, and trees..."

"I know. Mirages always seem real, but you're only seeing what you want to see. It's a trick, Cress. It's not there." He almost laughed at how it took a blind man to point that out, but he held his tongue. She was already disappointed.

Her breathing shook.

"It's all right," he said quickly. "Lots of people see mirages in the desert."

"But... I didn't know. I should have known. I've heard stories, but I didn't... I didn't think it could look so real."

He brushed his hand over her sheet and found her hand. "You're not going to cry, are you?"

"No," she whispered.

She sounded so fragile. Cress was like a little china doll he saw in a museum he robbed once – delicate and small and naive. He gently pulled on her wrist. "Good, come on. Find us a sand dune to sit down for a while."

She only led him a short distance until she collapsed on the sand with a groan. Thorne sat with a slower pace and loosened the strings on their bag. He brought out a blanket and the parachute to sit on, and then wrapped the blanket around them to keep the hot sun from blistering them anymore.

He put his arm around Cress's slim shoulders and squeezed her comfortingly. "We are not going to die out here," he said softly. "I've been through much worse than this and I've survived just fine."

"You have?"

He opened his mouth to respond with something worse, but paused. "Well... I was in jail for a long time, which wasn't exactly for a picnic." He didn't have anything worse.

She didn't say anything, but her body shifted against him as she leaned forward.

"The military wasn't much fun either, come to think of it," he added.

"You were only in it for five months," she murmured, "and most of that was spent in flight training."

Thorne cocked his head in surprise. "How'd you know that?"

"Research."

She was a hacker. Maybe she'd hacked his file or something on the Queen's orders. He grinned slightly. It would be very interesting knowing that _the_ Queen Levana knew who he was.

He went back to consoling Cress. "Well – so maybe this is the worst I've been through. But it doesn't change the fact that we're going to survive. We'll find civilization, we'll comm the Rampion, and they'll come get us. Then we'll overthrow Levana and I'll get loads of reward money and the Commonwealth will pardon my crimes or whatever and we'll all live happily ever after."

She nestled up against him and he held her tighter.

"But first, we have to get out of this desert." He rubbed her shoulder thoughtfully. "You have to trust me, Cress. I'm going to get us out of this."

**Hi! I really did mean to post this earlier today... but I never got around to it... and I slept it because I was exhausted... so, I'm sorry. But here it is!**

**Alrighty then, the tally is up to:**

**Favorites: 7**

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**Wow! I feel popular! :)**

**As always, I don't own the Lunar Chronicles.**

**Thanks to everyone who has read this – y'all are great!**

**And reviews are very appreciated!**

**The lyrics I used are the song "I Can Go the Distance" from Disney's **_**Hercules**_**. I don't own those either, but I did adapt it slightly. Also, the crescent moon lullaby was mostly my creation –the first verse was written by Marissa Meyer.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six (Chapter 23)

Cress was shivering. Sometime during the night, Thorne became aware of this and pulled her closer to him. All she had to keep her warm was her dress, while he at least had a shirt and pants – and real shoes.

But now she was trembling even more, and she was breathing shallowly. Thorne propped himself up on his elbow. "Cress," he said. "Cress, wake up."

She jolted, but the shaking resumed. He reached for her face and pressed his palm to her forehead. He cursed. "You're running a fever."

"I'm cold."

He bit his lip. If she was sick, walking in a desert with no water would only make it worse. But if she was too sick to keep going, Thorne would have to carry her and lead them both to safety – without seeing where he was going. He rubbed her arms, hoping for the best. "I'm sorry. I know you're not going to like this, but we need to get up. We need to keep moving."

She didn't answer.

His pulse quickened. "Cress, are you still with me?" He cupped her cheeks in both hands, acutely aware of the feverish heat.

"I can't," she whispered.

"Yes, you can. It will be better to walk at night when it's cool than to try and move during the day. You understand that, right?"

Her breath hitched. "My feet hurt... and I'm so dizzy..."

What was he going to do if she couldn't continue? He had no idea where safety or shelter was. He wasn't sure he could point which direction the mountains were in without sunshine to help. If she wasn't awake and leading them, he could very well walk them right off a cliff. He grimaced and pushed the thought away. "I know you don't want to keep going," he said. "I know you deserve a rest. But if we just lie here, you might never get up."

Thorne felt her hand on his chest, right above his heart. She sighed. "Captain, I think I'm in love with you."

His eyebrows shot up. Part of him wanted to laugh, and the other recognized that Cress might've actually been very, dangerously sick. He'd never seen it in person, but he knew a heat stroke was life-threatening in some cases. He didn't know the first thing about medical conditions. All he knew how to do was bandage cuts, read the medicine bottles, and pick out a few words that were familiar. He could make a terrible doctor.

He settled on his first instinct and laughed. "Don't tell me it took you two whole days to realize that. I must be losing my touch."

Her fingertips curled against him. "You knew?"

"That you're lonely, and I'm irresistible? Yeah. I knew." He tugged her arms lightly. "Come on, Cress, you're getting up."

She went limp beneath him.

"Cress – hey, no more sleeping. I need you. Remember the vultures, Cress. _Vultures_."

"You don't need me," she said suddenly. "You wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for me."

"Not true." He frowned. "Well, only kind of true. We've already been over this," he amended.

She shuddered. "Do you hate me?"

"Of course not. And you should stop wasting your energy talking about stupid things." He scooped an arm beneath her shoulders and pulled her into a sitting position.

Her fingers gripped his wrist. "Do you think you could ever love me back?"

"Cress, this is sweet, but aren't I the first guy you've ever _met_? Come on, up you go."

She pulled away from him and Thorne groaned.

"Oh, spades aces and stars. You're not crying again, are you?"

"N-no."

He pulled his hand through his hair, dislodging two days worth of sand. He wished for some medicine or water or something just to drop out of the sky – or maybe the Rampion to land next to them and rescue them. But of course, when nothing happened, he decided that this whole mess was relying on him to make it better. "Yes," he said firmly. "We are obviously soul mates. Now _please_, stand up."

"You've probably told lots of girls you loved them."

"Well, yeah, but I would have reconsidered if I'd known you were going to hold it against me." At this point, Thorne would say anything to get her up and going. She was being ridiculous, anyway. The fever was spinning things out of proportion. In any other position, this whole scene might've been comical. He might've laughed. But that was the last thing he would do now.

"I'm dying," she murmured. "I'm going to die. And I've never even been kissed."

"Cress. _Cress_. You're not going to die."

"We were going to have such a passionate romance, too, like in the dramas. But, no – I'll die alone, never kissed, not once."

Thorne groaned in frustration. "Listen, Cress, I hate to break this to you, but I am sweaty and itchy and haven't brushed my teeth in two days. This just isn't a good time for romance."

Cress squeaked and then went quiet.

His patience was wearing thin. "_Cress_. Look at me. Are you looking at me?"

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled.

He doubted that, since her voice was muffled like she was looking away. "I don't believe you."

She sighed. "I'm looking at you."

Thorne crouched down next to her and felt for her face. "I promise, I will not let you die without being kissed."

"I'm dying now."

"You are not dying."

"But–"

"I will be the judge of when you are dying, and when that happens, I guarantee you will get a kiss worth waiting for. But right now, you have to get up."

He meant what he said. If it got her moving, he meant it even more.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Thorne gripped her outstretched hands and pulled her to her feet. She swayed, but he held her steady. He tied the sheet around her head. "Are your feet bleeding?"

"I don't know. They hurt. A lot."

"Your fever might be from an infection." _And hopefully not a heat stroke_. He pulled the last water bottle from the bag and handed it to her. "Or you're dehydrated. Drink all of that."

He listened to make sure she didn't collapse, but she wasn't drinking it.

"_All _of it." Thorne knew he should drink some – he was more than thirsty – but he told himself that she needed it more.

So she did. Then she stopped. "But what about you?"

"I've had my fill," he lied.

When she handed the bottle back to him, there was nothing left. They were out of water.

Thorne picked up his cane and gripped Cress's elbow. It threw off his balance, but it would help her stay upright. He coaxed her into one step, then two, and then they were walking at a semi-steady pace, up and down the dunes.

She stumbled many times, but he was there to pull her up. He didn't say a word. He kept telling himself _just get her through the desert_. That's all he had to do. He only hoped that she stayed around to do her part.

They walked until he felt the first hints of the sunrise warming the air around him. He sighed. Another day of traveling in the blistering heat almost made him give in to Cress's wish of staying under the tarp and sleeping. But he didn't.

He was exhausted. He was thirsty. He was tired of working double-time with surviving in the desert and surviving without seeing. He was ready for some good luck.

Cress was slowing down. He matched her speed and masked the fatigue on his face with steady determination as they stopped completely.

"We're at the edge of the... the foothills of the mountains," she said. Her voice was small and dry. "There are some shrubs, and not as many dunes."

He tilted his head, drawing up the picture in his mind. The mountains looked suspiciously like a painting from his parents' house back in America. "Can you guess how long it will take to reach those shrubs?"

"No."

Thorne nodded. "That's all right. We'll try to get to them before it gets too hot. We might be able to get some dew off their branches."

They started again, and Thorne realized that the dunes were, in fact, fewer and far between. That was a good sign. The shrubs growing would have to get their water from somewhere. Thorne just hoped they would be able to find it.

Suddenly, he crashed into Cress and almost knocked her down. He held her upright until she regained her balance and asked, "What's wrong?"

"There's... an animal," she whispered.

An animal – another good sign. It would need water too. He waited for her to say something else, but she was silenced in awe.

"An animal?" he pressed.

"It has long legs and horns and... and it's _beautiful_."

The relief was small in size, but it felt nice to hear her speak like that, instead of her heavy, weary breathing he'd listened to all day. "Oh, good, we're back to this, then," he said with a smile.

Surely there was water. If the animal was here, then it would need to drink eventually. "Could mean there's a water source nearby," he said out loud. "We should keep going."

He pulled her gently into a slow walk. In his mind, he pictured her staring at an animal – a camel was the first that came to mind. Though he wouldn't describe a camel as "beautiful".

Then, knocking his breath away and sending his heart racing, he heard the crack of a gunshot ring across the desert.

**Hey! I think Saturdays are going to be my go-to days for posting this since I can't seem to find time during the week... Good thing school is almost out! Summer, yay!**

**Thanks so much to:**

**- my 13 reviewers (not unlucky thirteen, I hope!)**

**- the 8 people who added this story to their favorites **

**- the 12 followers**

**- and 923 views from **_**everywhere**_**! the USA, Canada, New Zealand, the UK, Australia, the Palestinian Territory, Portugal, Germany, the Philippines, Spain, Venezuela, the Bahamas, Singapore, Denmark, Poland, Iceland, and Bulgaria ... whoa!**

**I do not own the Lunar Chronicles, of course. If I did, I wouldn't be posting this story here. :)**

**Thanks for reading, reviews are welcome, and I hope you have a wonderful day!**

**Side note: can you just imagine sitting down on a beach in the Bahamas and reading the Lunar Chronicles? Wouldn't that be perfect? Ah well, something to wish for.**

**:)**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven (Chapter 24)

Thorne reacted on instinct and yanked Cress down into the sand. He placed himself over her, protecting her. "Cress!" he cried. "Are you all right?" His heart was racing a mile a minute. Blood was roaring in his ears. Dimly he wondered if his eyes would be overwhelmed as well, had he been able to see. His question: what just happened?

She was shaking. She was alive.

"Cress! _Cress_!"

He brushed his hands over her trembling figure, searching for the wound. He had to stanch the bleeding, get the bullet out if he could... unless it went straight through her body...

Then her hands were on his wrists, holding them tightly. "I'm – I'm all–"

His shoulders slumped in relief and he opened his mouth to respond, but he heard a new sound: panting, and not from him or Cress. Footsteps followed the labored breath, and then a startled yelp.

And then came the words.

Thorne held totally still, listening hard, but he couldn't make out what this stranger – a man? – said for the life of him. It sounded foreign.

It occurred to him that it probably was foreign.

"Universal, then?" he said, his words still clouded in a thick accent. "You are not from here."

He blinked and brushed his hands along his filthy pants. A new feeling was trickling over him – a little timid, a little bothered, and a lot awkward. This person, whoever he was, could clearly see Cress and Thorne in the sunrise, one that Thorne only felt. This man obviously saw that they were lost and struggling to survive, but for some unexplained reason, Thorne felt self-conscious about the fact that he was blind.

"Yes – sir," Thorne said. "We need help. My..." His thoughts sprinted through possible scenarios. He came across one that would just add to the awkward, but it sounded convincing. "My wife and I were attacked and robbed two days ago. We have no more water. Please, can you help us?"

"Your eyes?" the man asked.

Thorne's lips pinched. Was it that obvious that he was blind?

"The thieves gave me a good blow to the head," he explained, "and my sight's been gone ever since." It was close to the truth – he did hit his head. "And my wife has a fever," he added.

"Of course. My–" He stumbled over the language. "My friends are not far. There is an oasis near here. We have a... a camp."

Cress sighed longingly beside him. Thorne put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed her gently.

"I must bring the animal," the man said. "Can you walk? Maybe... ten minutes?"

He rubbed her arms. _Almost there, Cress. Almost there. _"We can walk," he agreed.

Thorne led Cress after the telltale sound of the animal carcass being dragged through the sand, and the man's occasional grunt. She was walking okay by herself, but he felt that she was a little upset by an animal she saw as "beautiful" being shot right in front of her.

New worries crept into his thoughts.

_Would they recognize Thorne?_

No matter how much he liked being famous, being a wanted criminal around the globe had its downfalls. Once they got to this camp, they would be at the mercy of its inhabitants. Maybe his desert filth would hide who he was, but once he washed up or maybe even before that, they would recognize him and call the military.

Hopefully he could buy them a little time to get fed, watered, and rested.

After a while – probably ten minutes – Cress squealed, "An oasis!"

He gripped her elbow. "Describe," he murmured. It was time to find out if his worries would come to fruition.

"There's a lake," she said. "Blue as the sky, and surrounded by grasses and maybe a few dozen trees... palm trees, I think. They're tall and skinny and–"

"The people, Cress. Describe the people."

"Oh." She paused. "I can see seven people... I can't tell their genders from here. Everyone is wearing pale-colored robes over their heads. And there are – I think, camels? Tied up near the water. And there's a fire, and some people are setting out mats and tents. And there's so much shade!"

Thorne chuckled at her excitement. As for him, he would rather be back on the Rampion watching Wolf embarrass her in their little brawls. He and Scarlet and Iko had a lot of fun teasing her.

"The man is waiting for us," Cress commented.

That meant they were near the camp. He could hear sounds of movement and chatter and knew they were within the visual path. He bent down near her and kissed her cheek. He wanted to laugh when Cress froze but settled on a grin. "Looks like we made it, Mrs. Smith."

Booted footsteps crunched towards them. Two, if he counted right. The newcomers exchanged words in their language with the hunter.

A woman was the first to speak. "What a trial you've been through," she said. Thorne noted that her accent was not quite as thick as the other's was. "My name is Jina, and this is my husband, Niels. Welcome to our caravan. Come, we have plenty of food and water. Niels, assist the man with his bag."

Thorne shrugged off their bundle and relaxed as the weight was lifted away. "We have some food in there," he said. "Preserved nutrition packs, mostly. It's not much, but it's yours, if you'll help us."

"Thank you for the offer, but this is not a negotiation, young man. We will help you." Jina led them to the fire and Cress finalized his position. He would rather not sit down in the flames. Together they sat on a woven mat.

"What kind of animal was that?" Cress asked.

"Desert addax," said the voice he assumed belonged to Niels. He pressed a cool jug in Thorne's hand. He uncapped it and took a long, refreshing drink of sweet, sweet water.

"It was beautiful," Cress said.

"It will also be delicious. Now drink."

The group fell into silence. Thorne busied himself quenching his massive thirst and listening to the people around him. He tried counting how many there were by their breathing, but that proved to be very difficult.

Cress slowly leaned in to him and he put his arm around her. He grinned. "We're deeply grateful to you," he said, breaking the silence.

"It was very lucky that you found us, or that Kwende found you," Jina remarked. "The desert is not a kind place. You must have a very lucky star." She paused briefly before saying, "You're very young. How long have you been married?"

"Newlyweds," Thorne explained. He realized she was probably talking to Cress a moment too late. "This was supposed to be our honeymoon. So much for that lucky star, I guess."

"And I'm not as young as I look," Cress squeaked. Thorne's smile grew.

"You'll be grateful for that youthfulness someday."

Something that smelled delicious wafted towards him and his stomach growled. With his need for water appeased, he was viciously hungry. Someone handed him a bowl of food and a spoon and he gingerly dipped it in.

He had absolutely no clue what it was. It smelled spicy and it was thick beneath the spoon. He scooped up a bit and shoveled it into his mouth.

It was spicy. _Very_ spicy. It reminded him of a foreign restaurant back in LA that his parents loved. He hated it. But he was very glad for it now. So he kept eating. He tasted some peas, he thought, and saucy potato rice.

"Don't they have potatoes where you come from?" Jina questioned.

For a baffling moment, Thorne thought she was talking to him. Then Cress jerked next to him and his confusion melted. He took another bite of his exotic food. "This sauce," she said quietly. "What is it?"

"Just a simple curry. Do you like it?"

"Very much. Thank you."

Thorne scraped the spoon around the bottom of the bowl, scouting out any bits he missed. He set the empty bowl down right as a plate of meat was passed around, and some sort of nuts. Cress handed him the nuts after a failed attempt of him picking them up, which ended in a few poor handfuls roasting in the fire.

"Are you traders?" he asked as she pressed a few into is palm.

"We are," Jina said. "We make this trek four times a year. I am upset by the threat of thieves. We haven't had such trouble in ages."

He shrugged and ate a few of the nuts. "Desperate times. If you don't mind my asking, why camels? It makes your way of life seem very... second era."

"Not at all. We make our living serving many of the smaller communities in the Sahara, many of which don't even have magnets on their own streets, much less trade routes between them."

Thorne's hand tightened. "Why not use wheeled vehicles then?"

"We do occasionally," said one of the men, "for special circumstances. But the desert does harsh things to machinery. They're not as reliable as camels."

"This may not be a luxurious life, but we stay busy," Jina finished. "Our towns rely on us."

"Not many tourists come through here," Niels said after a while. "Any foreigners are usually just here for mining, or archeology. This side of the desert's been almost forgotten since the outbreaks started."

"We heard the outbreaks aren't half as bad as rumored," Thorne said smoothly. He hoped it wasn't a lie.

"You heard wrong. The plague outbreak is as bad as they think. Worse."

"Which town are you traveling to?" Jina asked.

"Oh – whichever one you're going to. We don't want to burden you. We'll take our leave in any town with a netscreen." Thorne tilted his head. "Er... you wouldn't happen to have any portscreens on hand, would you?"

"We do," said another woman. "But net access is fickle here. We won't have a good connection until we get to Kufra."

"Kufra?"

"The next trading town," Niels answered. "It will take us another day to get there, but you should be able to find whatever you need."

"We'll rest today and tonight and set out tomorrow," said Jina. "You need to replenish yourself, and we want to avoid the high sun."

Thorne smiled gratefully. "We can't thank you enough."

Cress's breathing stalled next to him.

"You don't look well," Jina said.

Thorne grimaced. "My wife was feeling ill earlier."

"You should have said," Jina said. "She could have heat sickness." Her voice tensed as she moved nearer to Cress. "Come, you should not be so near the fire. You can use Kwende's tent tonight, but you should drink more before you sleep. Jamal, bring me some damp blankets."

Cress's slim frame lifted away from him as she stood and Thorne turned his head toward her. He wished he could see her, help her. He heard her dress swish as she stopped and turned around. In the next instant, her limp body fell on top of him, knocking him over.

"Cress!" he explained. He shifted his hands around to her back and pulled her up. Several others surrounded her and picked her up, muttering in their language. They started walking away. Thorne stood and tried to follow but he tripped over the edge of a tent. Someone else pulled him back and steadied him.

Thorne had never felt so helpless.

**Well **_**that **_**was fun to write! I duly apologize for any grammar or spelling or whatever mistakes. I usually don't write this thing late at night. But since I'll be gone all day tomorrow (yay) I decided I'd do y'all a favor and write this tonight.**

**So, sorry for any errors and stuff and I hope you liked it!**

**The Tally:**

**- my 16 lovely reviewers (yahoo!)**

**- the 10 favoritors (is that a word? Microsoft says it's not)**

**- the 15 followers**

**- and 1,130 views from **_**everywhere**_**! And when I say everywhere, just take my word for it because I'm too sleepy to list all the countries and territories and provinces and who knows what else.**

**This little fanfiction has pleasantly surprised me! Thanks to all those people who read this, favorited this, reviewed this, followed this, and viewed this! Thanks for making me feel obligated to write stuff! Thanks for something else I probably forgot!**

**... yawn ...**

**Oh yeah! Reviews are really appreciated! :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, this chapter is a special one. In the actual book of Cress, the desert-plot skips ahead two days while Cress is sick. She sleeps for most of it. But Thorne... he is (probably) awake and aware the whole time. Naturally, something would have to happen. Like: he gets his bandana, gets his cane, gets to be on a friendly basis with the traveling caravan people. So this chapter actually takes place in between the end of my last chapter and the published chapter 27. **

**So this chapter is my own. Vashti is a character from the book that was not ever given a name (that I remember). She is the other woman besides Jina. And I made up Omar. The other caravan travelers are taken directly from the book (Jina, Niels, Kwende, Jamal).**

Chapter Eight (Chapter 24–27)

Thorne wobbled on unsteady feet. His hands brushed against the fabric of the tent as murmurs from the travelers echoed in his ears – but it was in the other language. He thought he heard a whisper of _Cress_ a few times, but he couldn't be sure. He growled slightly.

"They are putting her in the bed," said the person who had steadied him – a man with a barely understandable accent. "She will sleep."

Thorne snorted. "Right, she blacked out. She'll sleep fine," he said sarcastically.

"She will," the man persisted.

The fabric of the tent flapped and booted footsteps crunched through the grainy sand. "Heat sickness," said Jina. She was the only one whose voice he knew. "She needs rest. I'll talk with Niels and see if we can delay travel until your wife is feeling better." She patted his shoulder as she walked by and her steps retreated back to the campfire.

"Niels will agree," said the man.

He grunted as worrisome thoughts filled his head. _What if Cress was dying? What if they went all this way just to have her die in sickness? What if she left Thorne alone?_ He cringed at the last thought. It was incredibly selfish, yet it rang true in his mind. Thorne was... _terrified_ of being alone. These people could either be friends or enemies. They could recognize him at any moment for the wanted fugitive. He would end up in prison... again.

"You look very tired," Kwende said. "Would you like me to to fix you a bed next to her?"

He almost laughed, but then he realized that as far as Kwende knew, he and Cress were married. Of course they would share a tent. So he nodded and accepted the traveler's guiding hand and settled down onto a padded mat.

Then Kwende left and the tent was silent.

Except for Cress's breathing.

Thorne listened to that for a while and let his thoughts roam. What would it have been like to grow up imprisoned in a satellite? Or even on Luna? It was such a foreign concept – hard to grasp. He couldn't imagine a childhood different from the one he had. _Father. Mother. Sister_. All of them played such a big role in his life. His parents were successful business owners, bringing in substantial paychecks every month that spoiled him. The last time he spoke to his sister, she was in college studying rocket physics and space science.

Thorne was a criminal.

For the first time in a long while, he wondered what his family thought of him. He his last name was also their last name, and now everyone in the world knew that the name _Thorne _belonged to a world-class felon. He imagined the shame they felt when people commented on it, the wounded pride all because of him, the rebellious son.

With those happy thoughts dancing in his head, Thorne drifted off to a fitful sleep.

**oooOooo**

He dreamt of Cress, but he never saw her. It was always her voice, her singing – just out of his reach. Cinder was with him in the dreams, sometimes. Thorne could see her just fine. But it was Cress that his dream-self searched for. He wanted to see her. He wanted to match a voice to a face.

He woke to noise on his right. He stilled and listened.

Cress was whimpering and her blankets were rustling around. He propped himself up on his elbow. "Cress," he whispered. When she didn't answer, he kicked off his blankets and sat on the sand next to her. "Hey, you awake?"

The only response was the rustle of the blankets.

He slid his hand forward and found her face. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead and tensed. She still had a fever, a high fever, and she was sweating.

_No wonder_, he thought wryly. _It's sweltering in here._

He pulled the blankets off her and smiled slightly as her whimpers subsided. He felt for her face again and brushed her short, loose hair to the side. What did she look like? Blonde hair, he knew, and fair skin. Was she already tanning from their time in the desert? Was she sunburned? Was her face red from the heat and exhaustion?

An accented voice penetrated the silence and made him jump.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Smith," a woman said. It wasn't Jina. A bone popped as she knelt down next to Thorne and Cress. "How is she?"

He shrugged. "I'm not a doctor, so I wouldn't know," he said, trying for flippancy. "She's still got a fever."

She studied Cress for a moment and made a _tsk_ sound. "Yes, this is heat sickness. She needs to stay in the shade." Her breath stalled when she stood and Thorne got the feeling that she was an older woman. "Are you hungry? The morning meal is almost finished."

_Morning._ That explained why it was so warm in the tent, Thorne realized. The sun was rising, and with the sun came higher temperatures. The thought made him ache for air-conditioning. He stood slowly, not quite trusting his balance. "Sounds like a plan."

Her hand landed on his arm suddenly and she pulled him out of the tent, throwing off his balance as he tripped after her. "My name is Vashti," she said.

"Nice to meet you." He could barely get the words out – he was focused on where he was putting his feet and hoping for all the stars that he wouldn't trip and make a fool of himself.

Vashti led him to the campfire. The crackle of the fire – for cooking? – and chatter of the other travelers provided some since of direction and orientation, at least. He sat down, painfully aware of how their conversations stalled.

He had to keep them from recognizing him, he realized with a jolt. "Smells good," he said. "What are we having?"

Jina's voice spoke up, but it was in words he did not understand. His face must have been funny because she laughed. "_Ful medames_. It is good traveling food. You will like it." Everyone else was totally silent.

He heard a scrape – metal on metal – and then the smell of something delicious permeated the air. He inhaled and heard his stomach growl.

"Here," said Vashti. She grabbed Thorne's hands and gave him a warm bowl full of food. He dipped his little spoon in and took a bite. It tasted like beans... and garlic. He took another and nodded. "It is good."

She chuckled and then they were all eating. At some point, Vashti left with another bowl of food and a canteen of water to try and get Cress to eat something. Thorne thought about going after her but he decided that he would be safer remaining seated.

They finished eating quickly and several of the men went out into the desert. Jina left to do some cleaning or packing and Thorne was left with a single man.

Thorne frowned, suddenly remembering something. "My cane," he said.

"What?"

"My walking cane – I don't have it. Haven't had it since last night."

"Cane?" He pronounced the word like it was new to his vocabulary – it probably was.

He nodded anyway and pantomimed the concept of "cane" with his hands, which was weird since he couldn't see how effective or accurate his gestures were, or the man's reaction to them.

But then the man said "oh" and got up and left, leaving Thorne alone.

He rubbed his eyes and sat back. Tents flapped in the gentle breeze and the occasional snort from a camel were the only disruptions to the still desert air.

The man came back and something fell into the sand next to Thorne. He ran his hands over the ground until his fingers brushed an unfamiliar surface. His mouth pinched into a line as he picked up the slim shape. "This isn't my cane."

"It is mine. I use it when my leg hurt."

Thorne's curiosity piqued.

"I hurt my leg when I was little and it hurt ever since. Sometimes it is better that other times."

He slid his fingers along the smooth surface. "I can't take your cane if you need it."

"I make you another one."

"Really?"

"Yes. It is not hard."

Thorne grinned. "Thanks, uh..."

"Omar."

Heavy footsteps marched over towards Thorne and his companion, interrupting their conversation. The newcomer was quiet for a brief moment, like he was deciding what to say. "Mr. Smith, Vashti sent me to ask you to go see your wife. She was calling for you." The words came out rushed. "I will take you there."

Cress was awake? Thorne almost smiled, but then he picked up a trace of discomfort in the man's words and frowned.

Omar seemed to notice it too and said something to him in their language. It ended with the newcomer walking away.

"I told him I will take you," Omar said. "Come."

Thorne stood and gripped the cane. "Can I use this?"

"Yes. Just... ah... slide it over the sand from side to side."

Thorne tried that as he followed the sound of Omar's shoes. "So, what's the deal with that guy? He sounded nervous."

"Not nervous, as you say. More... uncomfortable."

Thorne's eyebrows creased. "Why?"

"Your eyes."

He flinched. "Are they that bad?"

Omar's hesitation revealed the answer more than words ever would. "They are not bad. It is strange to see eyes that don't see." He laughed suddenly. "I'm sorry, that sounded mean."

"It's fine," Thorne said. But it really wasn't – at least, not completely. "What do they look like?"

"They are very still... and unfocused. Wandering. Like... windows with the curtains closed."

For a very short moment, an image Omar looking into Thorne's eyes came to mind, but it dissipated right after since Thorne had no idea what Omar or any of the caravan travelers looked like.

"So, not milky and white like I've seen in movies?"

"What?"

"Never mind." He tilted his head. "You wouldn't happen to have a blindfold, would you?"

"What?" he asked again.

"A blindfold... a piece of cloth or something that I can put over my eyes." He mimicked a blindfold over his eyes with his hands and Omar laughed.

"I can get you one of those. Come this way."

Thorne followed him, swiping his borrowed cane over the sand and thinking. He was feeling sorry for himself again, and he hated it. And it wasn't so much the fact that he couldn't see – it was that he was different from everyone else, and it was one of the first things they noticed about him. Not his good looks, not his charismatic personality, but his eyes that didn't see anything at all.

Omar gave him a bandana and led Thorne to Cress's tent. Then he left and it was just Thorne and Cress.

"Hey," he said quietly. He fingered the bandana in his hands and listened to Cress's gentle breathing. She wasn't awake anymore. "I think we're good. They haven't recognized me yet." He smirked. "Probably my eyes have something to do with that. They seem to draw more attention than anything else about me. It's kind of funny, actually." He sighed. "I wish... I want to see. I don't know if that'll ever happen though. Not while I'm a criminal."

He folded the bandana and tied it around his head, positioning it over his eyes. _A blindfold for the blind man_, he thought._ Nothing better than a little irony to make you wish for your stolen spaceship._

**Done! That wasn't too hard, I guess. Did I get Thorne's dialogue right? It seems like he isn't as sarcastic or funny as he is in the books, but maybe that's just me. :) The next chapter will be another that's not in the book, but it may blend in with Chapter 27. I don't know, I guess I'll find out when I write it.**

**The Tally:**

**- my 22 reviewers **

**- the 12 favorites **

**- the 19 followers**

**- and 1,480 views (USA, Canada, the UK, Cambodia, Portugal, the Philippines, Belgium, Mexico, Switzerland, Ireland, Poland, and New Zealand!)**

**Wow, thanks everyone!**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed that chapter! Thanks for reading, reviewing, adding this to your favorites, following it, viewing it, and doing whatever else it is you're doing! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine (Chapter 24–27)

Thorne must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he awoke, it was from a terrible dream. He couldn't remember all of it anymore – just something to do with a perfectly symmetrical room painted dull gray with no windows or doors. He was alone. Yet he could recall a voice calling out to him, yelling for help...

He sat up slowly and yawned. It was all quiet outside the tent, and the air was cool, so he figured it was nighttime. Briefly, he wondered what phase the moon was in; the full moon brought about the royal wedding between his royal majesty, Emperor Kai, and Queen Levana. Cinder might have told him that she wasn't interested in Kai, but Thorne knew it wasn't true. His guess was confirmed when she threw her boot at the netscreen when Emperor Kai announced he was going to marry the lunar queen.

Thorne smiled, his nightmare forgotten.

Cress inhaled sharply next to him and he jumped slightly. Then she quieted.

Suddenly, Thorne had the overwhelming desire to _see_. He had no idea where it came from, only that it was terrifyingly potent. _To see the stars. To see the moon. To see the caravan I'm living in. To see Cress. To see the color blue. The color red. The color green, yellow, purple, maroon, turquoise, chartreuse._

He very nearly screamed.

He reached up and yanked off his new bandana on a whim and opened his eyes. _Nothing._ The desire to see – and scream – only grew. His frustration was sickening. His stomach was churning. He let out a string of quiet curses and rubbed at his eyes, pleading. _I just want to see. I just want to see. I just want to see. _

Then, as quickly as it came, the desire faded and Thorne was left with a silent tent, save for Cress's breathing.

"Idiot," he hissed. He flung the bandana down into the sand and crossed his arms, chilled. "I am a self-centered jerk. Who cares what other people think of me?" He huffed. "It's stupid to think that."

Then he felt stupid for talking to himself.

"Stupid," he said again. "I can be blind. Yeah. It's not... the _worst_ thing that could happen – to me. Maybe. Okay, no more complaining," he resolved. "No more tantrums."

As he lay back down to sleep, he thought he heard a whisper from Cress, but when no other sound followed, he decided he must've imagined it.

**oooOooo**

The next day, Thorne was in a better mood. No, a good mood. A _great_ mood. Breakfast was filled with his chatter – how he met Cress, where they came from, what he did for a living (to which he did not answer "steal"). He ate his food without spilling a bite – probably. He and Vashti got Cress to eat some soup together, and then he sat with Omar and talked while he whittled Thorne a new cane. Then they practiced with it, and Thorne became quite adept at walking with it. The ground wasn't a gigantic trap waiting for him to fall for it. He figured out the setup of the camp, sort of, and Cress's fever broke.

It was a good day.

So good, in fact, he was having fun.

He was telling a particularly exaggerated story about his Great Uncle Phil – the eccentric netscreen repairman. He really didn't have a Great Uncle Phil, but he almost wished he did as he told the story to the caravan over dinner.

Vashti left sometime as he transitioned to Omar and Kwende's favorite story – his and Cress's whirlwind romance. He made up all of it, of course. The truth would stay hidden. But they all loved it. Their laughter drowned out every other noise, and Thorne loved it.

He loved it even more when Kwende yelled, "She rises!"

He raised his head, surprised, and he grinned. "My wife?" A few chuckles answered his question and Thorne stood up. His balance twisted and he wobbled on one leg. "Uh-oh." The fire was crackling next to him. _Uh-oh, indeed._

And then Cress was there, her tiny frame steadying him. He grinned wider. "Cress?"

"Yes, Cap – um–"

He laughed at her cute awkwardness. "You're awake, finally! How do you feel?" He slid his hands up her arms and felt for her forehead. "Oh, good, your fever's gone down. I was so worried." He pulled her into an honest hug and squeezed her.

She squeaked and he loosened his grip, grinning like a madman. "My dear Mrs. Smith, _never_ scare me like that again," he added for show.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I feel much better now."

"You _look_ much better." His lips quirked at that feeble attempt at a joke. He was in such a good mood, he found it hilarious. "At least, I'm assuming you do." He dug his toes into the sand and flicked his cane up. His outstretched hand stopped its fall and he twirled it in his fingers. "Come on, let's go for a walk. Try to get some real alone time on this honeymoon of ours." He winked exaggeratedly beneath the bandana.

He gripped her hand and laughed as hollers from around the fire followed them. He was glad she was awake. He'd missed her sweet company.

"You seem to be getting around well," she said as the fire's crackling faded into the background.

"I've been practicing walking with the new cane. One of the guys made it for me, and it's a lot nicer than that metal one." _And it doesn't get hot every time the sun shines, either._ "The camp setup still confuses me, though. I swear they keep moving stuff around every time I think I've got it figured out."

"I should have been there to help you. I'm sorry I slept so long."

He shrugged, inhaling the refreshing scent that told him they'd neared the small oasis lake. "I'm just glad you're all right. I really was worried."

She was quiet for a moment. Thorne took the opportunity to fill her in on pertinent information. "So listen. I told everyone that once we get to town, we're going to call up my uncle in America and have him send transportation, so we won't be continuing on with them."

"And you think we'll be able t contact your crew?"

"That's my hope. The ship doesn't have any tracking equipment, but given that you were able to find our location before, I thought maybe you could think of some way to at least get a message to them."

He let her think about that for a while as they neared the pungent camel-corral, or whatever. He wrinkled his nose and urged Cress to go a little faster. Already, he'd lost his position and had no clue where everything was, relative to him.

Cress took them to their tent and they sat down in the sand. She pulled off her boot with a soft scrape and it thumped quietly in the sand. "Everything all right?" he asked.

"I hope we can find some shoes when we get to this town." She sighed. "My first pair of real shoes."

Thorne smirked. "Now you're sounding like a true Earthen lady."

"Can I ask why you're wearing a blindfold?"

He brushed his fingers over the material covering his eyes. It didn't occur to him that while some people didn't want eye contact, maybe some would. "I think it was making people uncomfortable – my staring into space all the time, or looking right through them."

"It didn't make me uncomfortable," she offered. "I think your eyes are... well, dreamy."

His mouth quirked. "So you _have_ noticed." He pulled off the bandana and tucked into his pocket. Then he stretched out on the sand. Cress leaned against his shoulder stiffly and he wrapped his arm around her waist. "Good idea. How could they not think that we're in love?"

"How couldn't they?"she murmured distantly.

He bit his lip. A question that had been nagging at the back of his mind had had its fill of waiting. "Cress?"

"Mm?"

"We're good, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was just thinking about, you know, what you said out in the desert." He shrugged. "I figured it was mostly the fever speaking, but even still, I have this habit of saying things without really thinking about them, and with you being new to this whole socializing thing..." He tightened his arm around her waist in a hug. "You're awfully sweet, Cress. I don't want to hurt you."

She peeled her head off his shoulder. "You think I'm naive."

"Sure, a little. But mostly I just think I'm not the best person to demonstrate all the goodness humanity has to offer. I don't want you to be too disappointed when you realize that."

"I know you better than you think, Captain Thorne," she said, her tone so confident, it surprised him. "I know that you're smart. And brave. And thoughtful and kind and–"

He couldn't help himself. "Charming."

"–charming and–"

"Charismatic."

"–charismatic and–"

"Handsome."

She stopped and he quickly schooled his mocking grin. "Sorry. Please, continue."

"Perhaps more vain that I'd realized."

A hearty laugh escaped him and he reached over and found her hand, squeezing it tightly. "For having such limited social experience, you, my dear, are an excellent judge of character."

"I don't need experience," she said. "You can try to hide it behind your bad reputation and criminal escapades, but I can see the truth."

He grinned and nudged her shoulder. "That on the inside, I'm really just a sappy, lovelorn romantic?"

"No... that you're a hero."

"A _hero_? That's even better."

"And it's true."

_No, Cress is the hero._ He pulled his hand – and hers – to his face and beamed into her palm. It was all he could do not to bust out laughing, and she sounded so serious. "You're killing me, Cress. When have you ever seen me do _anything_ that would be considered heroic? Rescuing you from the satellite was all Cinder's idea, you're the one who kept us from crashing and got us through the desert–"

"I'm not talking about any of that." She yanked her hand away. "What about when you tried to raise money to help pay for android assistance for the elderly? _That_ was heroic, and you were only eleven!"

His grin disappeared. He wondered if he would be able to get it back. Oh, that was the _last_ thing he expected her to say. He didn't even think to expect it. "How did you know about that?"

"I did my research."

He scratched his jaw hesitantly, thinking how he should phrase his response. _She is not going to like this_. "All right. I stole a necklace from my mom and tried to sell it. When I got caught, I figured they wouldn't punish me if they thought I'd been trying to do a good thing, and since I had to give the money back either way it didn't really matter. So I made up the story about giving the money to charity."

"But... if that's the case, what were you really going to do with it?"

The frown so evident in her voice did not escape him. He sighed dreamily anyway. "Buy a hover-racer. The Neon Spark 8000. Man, I really wanted that."

"Fine," she said tightly. "What about when you released that tiger from the zoo?"

"Really? You think _that_ was heroic?"

"He was a poor, sad animal, locked up his whole life! You must have felt bad for him."

His brow furrowed. "Not exactly. I grew up with robotic cats instead of real pets, so I thought that if I let him out he would bow to my every whim and I could take him to school and be ridiculously popular because I was the kid with the pet tiger." He waved his hand through the air resignedly. "Of course, the second he was out and everyone went running for their lives I realized how stupid that was." He rested his elbow on his knee and cupped his chin. "This is a fun game. What else do you have?"

"What about Kate Fallow?"

He tilted his head. "Kate Fallow... Kate Fallow..."

"When you were thirteen. Some classmates stole her portscreen and you stood up for her. You tried to get it back."

"Oh, that Kate Fallow! Wow, when you research, you really research, don't you?" He exhaled. "Actually, I did have a little bit of a crush on Kate Fallow." He remembered the fight as plain as stars in space, and the reason he fought. Not that he was going to tell Cress. He could feel her disappointment in the air. "I wonder what she's up to these days."

"She's studying to be an architect."

"Ah. That makes sense. She was really good at math." _Really good._

"So? Don't you see how heroic that was? How selfless, how _valiant_?"

He tried to summon a smile but it came out weak and flat so he let it fade. He turned his face away from her, hiding the truth. He took a breath and sought out her hand again. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, squeezing. "Maybe there's a little bit of a hero in me after all. But... really, Cress. Only a little."

_Please see that. Please see that all I'll do is hurt you._

**Okay, something funny happened when I was writing this. Typically, I try to keep my words from rhyming (it makes the whole thing sound like it should be poetry) and I came across a line that was going to rhyme. **_**Cinder might have told him that she wasn't interested in Kai, but Thorne knew it was true.**_** Knew and true rhymed. So I backspaced and tried again with: **_**Cinder might have told him that she wasn't interested in Kai, but Thorne knew it was a lie.**_** See the funny part? Kai and lie rhyme as well. **

**(awkward writing problems) **

**Anyway...**

**The Tally:**

**- my 24 reviewers!**

**- the 14 favorites! **

**- the 20 followers**

**- and 1,735 views (to add to the usual exotic places, I now announce one visitor from Cyprus and four from Cambodia! Yay!)**

**Woohoo!**

**Well, that's all I got. Have a good night, good morning, good afternoon, or whatever time you're reading this. I hope you enjoyed! And reviews are most welcome! :)**

**(also, this did include Chapter 27)**


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